


Don't Know Much (But I Know I Love You)

by helens78



Category: due South
Genre: Amnesia, First Time, Frottage, M/M, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-10
Updated: 2010-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-12 13:49:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/125536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been two years, and Ray figured there was a reason Fraser had disappeared without calling to let anyone know where he'd gone, but this was nothing he'd ever expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Know Much (But I Know I Love You)

Two years. It'd been _two years_ , and Ray always knew Fraser wasn't dead, but the fact that Fraser hadn't contacted _anyone_ \--not him, not Vecchio, not Maggie, not anybody in Canada so far as Ray could tell--really had Ray worried for a while there.

But the worrying stopped abruptly on the day Frannie came over to his desk and slammed a copy of a skiing magazine down on his desk.

" _Look_ ," she said, and Ray knew this was serious, because she didn't say another word. She just pointed at the picture, and there in the back--there in the far back, with kids crowded around him, with all kinds of ski equipment on--was either Fraser or Fraser's long-lost twin brother, and Ray jumped up from his desk, knocking his chair over.

"I already booked your ticket," she said. "I'm--I'm not gonna call Ray, I don't want to get his hopes up for nothing, but I figured--"

"Yeah," Ray said. He reached out and hugged her as close as he could--she was six months along by then--and she squeezed him back. "When do I leave?"

He had four hours to pack and go, and he got to the airport with forty-five minutes to spare. Nice job on Frannie's part; she'd even gotten him a rental car, and she'd printed out all the information she could dig up on this guy--which for her was a lot, and Ray read it on the flight.

Fraser--assuming it _was_ Fraser--was going by the name John Dowling, and he'd been at the ski resort for the last nine months. He was an instructor, worked with kids, and during the off-season he lived in town, in this rinky-dink little Colorado ski town, and since it was the middle of July by the time Frannie found that magazine, that was where Ray was headed.

He pulled up to the bar where Fraser--"Dowling"--supposedly worked; it was a Thursday night, no reason on Earth for it to be packed, but the sign outside said "Ladies' Night", and the parking lot was almost full. Ray lucked into a spot not too far away from the back door, and once he'd cut the engine, he sat there for a while, gripping the steering wheel and taking deep breaths.

Could be a coincidence. Could just be someone who looked kind of like Fraser, who really had grown up in Buttfuck, Colorado, who slung drinks for a living during the summer and worked the ski resorts in the winter.

It _could_ be. But Ray hadn't gotten to be who he was without taking a little risk now and then, and Fraser was worth every risk in the book.

He got out of the car, slammed the door behind him, and walked up to the door, pushing his way inside before he could talk himself out of even a little bit of optimism.

The bar was packed and noisy; women surrounded the bar nearly three deep. There were three bartenders working, but the one on the end was where all the action was centered, and Ray's eyes went to him like everybody else's. The funny thing was, the other two bartenders were really working it, spinning the bottles, slamming down drinks in front of customers, but guy number three was just efficient--putting drinks down, sliding them to customers in exchange for bills, almost _mechanical_ about it.

And that made Ray's heart leap right into his throat, because God--he'd know Fraser's movements anywhere, and that was _him_. John Dowling, Ray's _ass_ \--that was _Fraser_ , lost and in the middle of nowhere, and Ray shoved through the crowd and pushed himself up to the bar, right across from Fraser, hoping like hell Fraser hadn't left out of some internal need to just get the hell out and never see Ray--never see _Chicago_ again.

The instant Fraser's eyes met Ray's, Fraser stopped cold, glass in one hand, bottle of rum in the other. It took one of the other bartenders coming over and giving Fraser a shove to get his attention, and Fraser quickly poured out a shot of rum, added Coke, and passed it to a customer. He grabbed a towel, dried his hands off, and leaned forward to get close to Ray.

"What can I get you?" he asked, voice loud enough to be heard over the noise.

"It's _me_ ," Ray yelled back. "It's _Ray_ , Jesus--what do you _think_ I want?"

For just a second, Fraser's eyes clouded with confusion, but then he shook his head. "Right," he said, and he leaned over to another bartender and said something in his ear. The other bartender looked at Ray, rolled his eyes, and shrugged, and Fraser tilted his head, towards the back of the room. Ray nodded, and he fought his way out through an increasingly-disappointed crowd, waiting once he was through the crush so Fraser would have a chance to catch up to him.

Fraser led Ray outside, out through an Employees Only door, down a dark hallway, out a back door, and then they were out behind the building--not too far from where Ray was parked, actually.

"You're going to have to forgive me," Fraser said, but there was no way he was getting further than that; Ray reached out and threw both arms around Fraser's neck.

"Forgive you, _hell_ ," Ray said, holding Fraser tight. "You could have fucking _called_."

"I--of course, yes, you're right," Fraser murmured, and he pulled Ray in closer-- _tighter_ \--until Ray realized Fraser was squeezed between him and the wall, and Fraser was--Fraser was--

Fraser was _rubbing up against his leg_.

"Fraser," Ray panted--he thought about trying to pull away, but what, was he _stupid_? "Fraser, _fuck_ \--two _years_ \--"

"I know I know I'm _sorry_ ," Fraser gasped in return, and that rub was getting more and more intense--oh, God, Fraser was hard and hot for it and panting out his breath against Ray's neck, and Ray turned his head just a fraction and Fraser _kissed him_.

Ray was startled enough to surge forward, into Fraser, pinning him to the wall, and Fraser let out a choked moan and got his arm around Ray's waist, holding him close while he--while he--oh, Christ, that moan Fraser let out had to mean he was coming, because that was an orgasm sound if Ray had ever heard one, and Christ--he'd never expected to hear that sound out of Fraser, not _ever_.

Fraser let his head drop back against the wall and started trying to catch his breath. "God," he panted. "All right--God--I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just-- _fuck_ , I really needed that."

Ray backed away a little--not the easiest thing he'd ever done; his hard-on was hoping for some attention, too, and if he'd been anywhere else with any _one_ else, he might've gone for it--and blinked at Fraser. "Frase...?"

"You keep saying that," Fraser said. "And I'm sorry I don't remember you, really, but I'm afraid I... how long ago did we meet?"

Ray shot him a look--and then something snapped into place, and his eyes went wide as he realized _why_ Fraser might not have been in any condition to call. "About four years," he said slowly. He reached up and cupped Fraser's face in one hand. "So how long ago did you lose your memory?"

Fraser licked his lower lip before answering. "Two years or so back," he said quietly. "I'm guessing you know who I really am."

"You could say that. Your name's--"

"No, wait--" Fraser grabbed Ray by the arms and pushed him back a step. "Just--wait. I have a life here. I have friends. I don't--" He closed his eyes. "I don't know if I want to know," he murmured.

"You were pretty sure about _me_ ," Ray said quietly. "Where the hell did that come from?"

"I just--knew," Fraser said weakly. He still wasn't looking at Ray. "I looked at you and--I just knew what I wanted. I thought maybe you were someone I met at Razorback."

"What the hell is--" Ray stopped there; maybe there were things he didn't want to know, either. "Look, I just got here--I don't even have a hotel room yet, I don't know where I'm going to stay--"

"Stay with me," Fraser said immediately. "I have a place. I'll take you." He wrapped both arms around Ray's waist and pulled him close again. "Please. Just-- _please_."

Ray took a deep breath and rested his forehead against Fraser's. "Okay," he whispered. "Take me home."

 _-end-_


End file.
